


Hope

by KaCole



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Action, Adventure, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Rebelcaptain - Freeform, Romance, Slow Burn, in character in universe, sci fi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-10-24 17:14:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10746207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaCole/pseuds/KaCole
Summary: Rebellions are built on hope. So are unlikely, last minute escapes.





	1. Escape from Scarif

Rebellions are built on hope. So are unlikely, last minute escapes.

It was done. The plans were safely in the hands of those who knew what to do with them. Jyn’s world consisted of a thundering wall of water, blotting out the sky, covering her with a fine spray. In seconds it would become a crashing torrent, as the edge of the wave reached the spot where she and Cassian knelt, clinging to one another.  She looked at him. It was no use trying to speak over the rumbling, crashing wall of water. She wanted to cover her ears, but that would mean letting Cassian go, and somehow she couldn’t bear that. She didn’t want to die alone, and, she thought, neither did he. 

She’d hold him to the last second, and in those seconds dream of what could have been, if they’d only had time. If only the universe had not been cruel and cold enough to show her what a family could be, and then rip it away. Cassian’s eyes were glazed with pain. She knew what it had cost him to drag himself towards her. His ankles must be broken, his back smashed. It was a wonder he’d been able to walk at all. Yet he’d found her. She’d hold onto his hand until her last breath.

Acrid smoke burned her lungs and stung her eyes. Another sound among the roar made her jerk her eyes away from Cassian’s, up over his shoulder. A ship, a small Imperial Frigate buried itself into the beach feet away from them.

Jyn blinked. She look at the wave blotting the sky, and then at the ship smoking on the sand. Through the glass, she saw its pilot lay slumped in the cockpit.

Her heart racing, her brain fogged with pain, her body protesting, she made a choice. Rebellions were built on hope. So were last minute escapes.

“Cassian Andor! On your feet, Captain!” she roared, dragging him upright. She turned him and pointed. “There!” 

He was dazed, and shook his head, but Jyn didn’t care. She forced him fully to his feet, and then they were running, stumbling towards the ship.

Chances of getting aboard and taking off before the wave hit must be a million to one _. Erso _ , she told herself.  _ Forget about the million and focus on the one _ .

The spray was harder now, salt water driving into her face as they pounded across the sand. Cassian’s legs moved in an awkward, lop-sided run, but he was moving with her, his arm over her shoulder, hers around his waist. Hope in his eyes.

Jyn smashed her hand into the door control. It powered down, agonisingly slowly. Cassian swayed on his feet. The white crest of the wave was visible now, a broiling vortex of water that had devastated everything in its path, bringing trees, ships, parts of buildings along with it. 

Jyn pulled Cassian up the ramp. “Can you fly this?” she screamed as she slammed her fist into the closing mechanism.  

He clutched the wall to hold himself up. His reply was lost. Closing the hatch reduced the sound only a little. They struggled through the lop-sided vessel into the cockpit. Cassian looked at the controls while Jyn yanked pilot’s head up. His neck had been broken on impact. She flung his body from the chair to the floor.

Cassian collapsed into the seat, all the time his fingers flying over the controls, his face creased into a desperate frown.

Dark, angry filled water filled the screen. 

“Strap in,” Cassian yelled.

The ship stuttered and rose, and then faltered. 

Jyn closed her eyes. Had she just bought them a few more seconds of life, to be dashed apart in this Imperial coffin in the force of that wave?

She tried to breath, to find some peace somewhere among the chaos.  _ Be a little proud of me, Papa _ .

Then the ship jolted again. She opened her eyes. They were moving. The wave keeping pace with them, but they were in the air just ahead of the mass of water.

Cassian glanced over at her, the hint of a smile at the corner of his lips. 

“Is the shield gate still operational?” she asked. 

He shook his head. “The whole thing is down. We have to clear the atmosphere before—” 

A small ship spun across the screen. The frigate lurched hard over, throwing Jyn hard against her restraints. Cassian swore, fighting to regain control and steadying the ship. 

There was a flash of blue sky, and then they were deep inside fluffy white clouds that obscured Jyn’s vision.

Then it turned again, this time into blackness. The noise had stopped, she didn’t know when, but now the only sound was the thrum of the engine as they slipped from the planet’s atmosphere into the welcoming velvet of space. 

She looked across at Cassian. His skin was deathly pale, his shaking hands fumbling with the controls. A space battle raged to their left, distant ships, blossoming into orange plumes and cracking apart. Somehow it didn’t seem to belong to them. Cassian directed the ship away from the fray and looked across and Jyn. His voice was a whisper.

“We won’t get far in this thing. It’s almost shaking itself apart. We need to put down. Get a message to. . .”

He swayed in his chair, his eyes flicking closed and open.

“You have to stay awake.” Jyn shook his shoulder. If he lost consciousness they would both be dead. She sure as hell couldn’t fly this thing.

She took his hand. “We have a chance, Cassian. We just have to find a planet, or a moon. Stay with me.”

He jerked awake, pain etched onto his face. 

Jyn tried to steady her hands as she activated the navigational computer, searching through the database of local systems. There must be something, somewhere.  “Look, there’s a habitable moon just three light years away. Can we make hyperspace? If we can set down, we can contact the rebel fleet.” She pinged him the co-ordinates, her hopes starting to lift. Perhaps they would make it out of this after all. 

Cassian nodded, staring at her, beads of sweat forming on his forehead, his eyes glassy.

“What?” she said. “Are you okay?”

“You did good, Jyn Erso,” he said, and smiled a sweet, faint smile. Then his face drained of colour and he slumped forward onto the instrument panel, out cold.


	2. A new Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jyn and Cassian have to get the stolen Imperial vessel down safe.

Cassian had slumped over the controls just as the ship jumped to hyperspace.

“Cassian, damn it, wake up!” Jyn leaped from her own seat and shook his shoulder. Nothing. Then she lifted his head fully up. Still nothing, not so much as a groan came from his lips. She cursed again, heat rushing to her face now, as the ship plunged through blinding strips of light, as they covered light years in moments. She moved Cassian into an upright position and activated his restraints to secure him. The autopilot light was engaged, so at least he’d done that before checking out.

Jyn took a breath. She had to think. There must be a medikit somewhere on board, where the hell was it? She dashed out of the cockpit and tried to get her bearings. This ship was used for escorting larger vessels: it was fast, armed, manoeuvrable, and designed for long missions over days or weeks with a crew of at least four. So they must have supplies. The room next to the cockpit was a living area; table, chairs, and entertainment screens. Her heart pounded, head roared, but this was no time to give into that. Focus. To the left seemed to be a small galley, so she crashed the door open. There was a medikit on the wall. She ripped the box down and turned its contents out on the silvery work surface. With shaking hands she found a hypo-syringe of adreno, stuffed it in her pocket and bolted back to the cockpit. 

He hadn’t moved. Stars still streamed past. How far had they gone?

“Fuck. Fuck,” she muttered, her chest pounding so fast she might have already injected that hypo of adreno into her own heart. 

“Cassian!”  She tried again to rouse him, shaking his shoulders. Jyn gently pulled up his eyelids but saw only white. No choice. Dangerous as it was, she’d have to give Cassian the adreno. She’d seen it done once before. Saw Gerrera had pumped a prisoner so full of this stuff he’d been wild eyed and awake for days.

Swallowing hard, she ripped open Cassian’s shirt, put the hypo to his heart and pressed the activator.

She counted. Stars streaked past. Ten seconds. Then Cassian drew in a rasping breath and then he roared, eyes bulging from his sockets. Every nerve ending in his body must be on fire. 

Jyn gripped both his wrists tightly and stared him down. “Captain, you need to fly this thing, or we’re going to die,” she said, willing him to focus. 

He blinked several times. Sweat beading on his forehead, his face reddening. But he nodded. “Okay, okay. I got this.”

Jyn let go of his wrists. “Get us out of hyperspace.” 

He nodded, fingers working to reverse the jump.

With a last look at him, Jyn put the hypo in her pocket and sat down. The navigation computer was churning data, but it would settle when they came out of hyperspace. When she looked up, they were back in normal space, surrounded by the blackened void. 

“We need somewhere to land. Hull integrity is down to sixty percent. And we need to disable the tracking protocols so we don’t end up with a reception committee,” Cassian said.

Jyn activated the rout menus and found the tracking system. She deactivated the command code with satisfaction.  _ There. Find us if you can. _ Next she scrolled through the data about the planets in nearby systems until she found one with a breathable atmosphere. 

She brought up a map. “There. We’re at the edge of the Minos Cluster.”

“That far? Damn it,” Cassian said. An alarm flashed on the instrument panel. “Get me a place to put down, quickly.”

Jyn ran through the readings on the planets in the system, looking for somewhere with a space port. “We’re so far out here. . .”

“Jyn, I’m not kidding, get me a destination!” he snapped, raising his voice over the shuddering engine. 

“Okay, okay. The third planet in has a habitable moon.” She pinged the co-ordinates to the helm. 

Cassian’s hands were shaking, his forehead beaded with sweat. He brought the ship about. 

“Hold on!” he said. “Going to be a rough entry.”

Cassian brought the ship into the moon’s atmosphere, and began a juddering descent. The whole ship shook, every loose item aboard rattling. In seconds they were skimming over a vast expanse of water.

“Kill your speed,” Jyn said, gripping the side of her chair. 

Cassian just grunted, eyes fixed on the screen ahead. 

A forest of towering trees edged the lake. Cassian cursed again. “I need somewhere to put down.”

“There,” Jyn pointed at a narrow stretch of beach between the lake and the forest.

“I see it.” He swung the ship around and pointed its nose towards the sand. The forest flew by on the left. They skimmed the ground, sending a burst of white sand high in the air. Jyn’s stomach lurched. They struck the ground again, once twice, and then the ship pivoted hard to one side. For a sickening moment Jyn thought they would tip right over. She squeezed her eyes shut.  Then the vessel thudded back down. The sand killed the speed, and the vessel came to a protesting, grinding halt. 

Jyn opened her eyes. They were still alive. Inexplicably, against the odds, she and Cassian had survived Scarif, and landed here. She peered out of the forward view screen and saw a wild, dense jungle to the left, and to the right an expanse of still water, ridged by distant mountains. She looked across at Cassian, his eyes were  wild, sweat pouring from his forehead, his face fevered and flushed. He rocked in his chair, banging his head back against the seat. He must be in terrible pain, Jyn realised. They were definitely not out of trouble yet. 

#

 

Cassian continued to rock in his chair, his agitation growing with every passing second. He tried to get up. 

Jyn pushed him firmly back into his seat. “Stay here. You’ll damage yourself more if you try to move. Let me look around.” Jyn left him scowling, taping the instrument panel fast with his fingers, and made a fast reccie of the ship they’d escaped in.  She found living accommodation, including two bedrooms, storage full of disassembled equipment and the engine room. She decided to get Cassian in one of the beds and try to relieve some of his pain with what she had in the medikit, and then plan what to do next.

“Cassian, you’re going to have to help me. It’s a short walk to the bunks,” she said. She didn’t want to medicate him any further until she had him laying down.

Jyn pulled and shoved the pilot’s dead body to one side. Somehow, Jyn never was quite sure how, they made it to the closest cabin. Cassian collapsed, groaning, onto the bed, and then lay staring glassy-eyed at the ceiling. 

Jyn ran back to the kitchen for the medikit. She scooped the scattered contents into the box and brought the whole thing back to the room where she’d left Cassian. 

He was trying to sit up, and pushed her away when she approached him. 

“Cassian. You need to let me help you.”

“By pumping full of more of the Empire’s junk? No thank you.” His voice was a harsh whisper. He wasn’t thinking straight, she knew.

“That junk just saved our lives.” 

Cassian spat on the floor. “I’d rather die than—”

Out of his line of sight, Jyn grasped a hypo and set it to tranq mode. “No more dying today, Cassian,” she said, and plunged the hypo into his upper arm. He slapped at her hand, but she was too fast, stepping back out of his reach. She watched as he slowly fell back to the bed. His face relaxed from the mask of anger and pain; his forehead flattening, his lips loosening, eyes now closed. After a few more moments she touched his face, and he didn’t move. 

She’d seen enough of death to last her a lifetime. Jedha blasted into oblivion, and Saw with it. She lost a father she remembered in hazy dreams of heat and sand on the cold steel of Eadu.  K-2SO met his end bravely, braver than any droid she’d known. 

Jyn rubbed her aching shoulders. What had happened on Scarif? She’d seen fire consume ships, heard death-screams of those she considered friends echoing over and over in her mind. Did any of them escape? She thought she knew the answer. Scarif had burned,  along with those she’d come to care about with it. Yet she was here, and so was Cassian. She had to cling to the hope that by some twist of the force, some power greater than she understood, Bodhi, Chirrut, and Baze had escaped too. Jyn closed her eyes and forced her mind to the present. The past was done. She didn’t get this far in the hell pit this galaxy had become by dwelling on the past. She started to carefully remove Cassian’s boots to fully assess the damage, ready for a new fight. Now, she told herself, the fight to live begins.  


	3. Time to Heal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jyn and Cassian are stranded together after escaping from Scarif. They have to find a way to heal the wounds they brought with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've tried to account for the real trauma these two have gone through and explore how they might start to get to know each other over time.

Jyn covered Cassian with a white sheet, carefully tucking it under his chin as if he were a small child. She’d had to cut his ruined clothes off, and then she cleaned him and tended his wounds. His ankle was broken, that much was clear, and dark, angry bruising spread from his back and across his ribs. She’d gently tended his cuts and grazes, finding the rhythm of wiping away the blood and grime calming, somehow. As if she could wash away a world of pain. Every now and again when she looked at Cassian, pale and broken, she’d get a flash of her father, lying on the platform in the rain and fire. When that happened she’d press her hand against Cassian’s heart to reassure herself he was warm, breathing, and alive. They were both alive. 

She wondered how long that tranq would keep him out. She needed to get clean herself, check this vessel properly for weapons and supplies, and preferably eat, before she even thought about exploring the area. A cursory check of the external scanners showed no life forms bigger than a womp-rat for several miles. 

She checked in again on Cassian, who still slept peacefully.  Part of her just wanted to curl up close beside him on the bed—for it was big enough— and drift into oblivion, get some respite from this day of horrors. Images of her father’s body constantly tried to worm their way into her mind’s eye. If she lay down, they could creep in and consume her. Better to keep busy. There were many things that needed to be done. Like that damn pilot, for instance. She’d have to deal with him sooner or later. She decided that she’d drag him out and leave his body in the forest for the vermin to chew on. 

She looked down at the body with disdain. It represented everything she hated; the darkness of the Empire all wrapped up in the body of a lone pilot. She tucked the pilot’s feet under her arms and started dragging the dead weight towards the door. The pilot’s helmet scraped against the floor, so she stopped, not through respect, but because that helmet might come in useful. Squatting, she released the straps.  As she removed the helmet, long blonde hair fell to the pilot’s shoulders. Her blue eyes stared up at Jyn, lifeless and cold.  _ Don’t expect any sympathy from me just because you are a woman. You still sold out. _

The woman’s fist was clasped around something. Intrigued, Jyn prised the cold hand open. It was a locket. Jyn took the chain and held it up. As she did, two tiny images of holographic children racing around a garden appeared in the air. Then the pilot herself appeared and swept the laughing children into her arms. 

Jyn closed her eyes, a pain settling around her heart. She shut her fist around the pendant, her throat tight now. Nothing was simple. It was harder to hate the pilot when she knew children were waiting for their mother, desperate for her to come home. Did they have someone to take care of them?  Or were they alone and afraid in the dark? At least they had each other. She’d had no one during those long hours before Saw Gerrera found her.  

Jyn sighed and blinked back emotion she had no time for. Then she reached forward and closed the pilot’s eyes. Nothing was ever simple, was it?

Jyn couldn’t bring herself to leave the woman’s body in the open as she’d planned. She dug a hole at the edge of the forest and tipped the corpse in. She held the pendant and chain in her outstretched fingers, and let it fall onto the unnamed, unknown pilot’s chest. The hologram activated. As the children raced around just above their dead mother, Jyn covered her body with the sandy soil. Perhaps they would find a place together in eternity. 

She stood silently at the grave side, eyes closed. She said a prayer, of sorts. One grave; but a thought for every last soul that perished these last few days. For every life lost in Jedha, on Eadu and Scarif, for every pilot and every rebel fighter. Every citizen of the galaxy longing for freedom at odds with the a system that prized itself over the people it served. For her father. And perhaps, for the little girl sitting in a dark hole alone. 

Jyn rubbed her eyes, her legs heavy now. Her body was still painful and demanded some form of attention. But she couldn’t sleep, not yet. 

Cassian was still sleeping when she returned. The crew quarters on this ship were next to one another, joined by a shared bathroom. If fate was kind today, if she’d suffered enough already, then perhaps there would be enough water in the system for a shower.

Jyn stripped, left her clothes on the floor, and hung her necklace over the mirror in the small bathroom. She let the hot water run over her. Wash away Jedha, Eadu and Scarif. Let everything flow away with the murky waste water, flecked with dirt and her blood. She pressed her hand to the shower’s steamy wall. Again, weariness hit her, but she couldn’t rest yet. She’d seen something in the hold that she needed to investigate.

#

As Jyn dragged a cut-down barrel she’d found in the hold into the bedroom, Cassian stirred, groaning. She left the barrel and went to him, placing a firm hand on his chest. “Don’t try to get up.” 

He uttered a series of what she took to be expletives in a tongue she didn’t recognise. 

She waited patiently. When he stopped, she asked him, “How do you feel?” 

“Like I’ve been dropped from a great height, almost drowned, shot full of adreno and then tranqued.” He lifted the sheets and peered at his naked body. “Then lost what remained of my dignity along with my clothes.” 

“That’s a pretty fair assessment. Sorry about your dignity. But you were a mess.”

He gripped her hand for a moment, as if to offer her wordless thanks. For a moment, she wondered if she would find out what he looked like if he smiled. 

“How far out did we travel?”

“Edge of the Outer Rim, I’m afraid. We’re a long way from anywhere.”

Cassian cursed. “I need to get to the cockpit, try to make contact. . .”

Jyn put her hand to his chest again to hold him back. “You are not going anywhere. The coms system’s out. We need to strip and rewire the whole thing. It will take days. You are going nowhere, except that chair.” She pointed at a chair in the corner of the room. She continued to drag the barrel towards it. It was heavy, as it was half filled with bacta fluid.

Cassian scowled and gripped the sheet. “You are going to have to find me some clothes.”

By the time Jyn had found a kit locker with shorts and a shirt, helped Cassian to dress, and persuade him to sit in the chair instead of hobbling to the cockpit, it was pretty clear that he was going to be anything but a cooperative patient.

“You want me to sit with my feet in that stuff for how long?” He glared at the device she had constructed.

“Three days. Think yourself lucky it’s only your ankle and not your back that was broken.”

Jyn had filled the barrel up with bacta fluid she’d found in the hold. She carefully maneuvered Cassian’s feet in, submerging them in the healing fluid. His ankle was horribly misshapen and blackened with bruises. 

“This is ridiculous,” Cassian complained.

“Ridiculously lucky we found this stuff. Do you know how expensive it is?”

Cassian grunted and sat back, but said nothing more. She could feel his eyes on her as she sat on the side of the bed, but she refused to be cowed. She’d seen him naked, so she felt, albeit somewhat absurdly, that she had the upper hand. So she remained silent.  

“How long was I out?” he asked after a while.

“Four hours. Enough time for me to sort a few things.” She couldn’t quite bring herself to mention the pilot she’d buried, or the complicated heaviness she felt in her heart because of it. Good and evil, dark and light. It had seemed so clear and easy for a while. It didn’t look so straight forward now. 

Cassian had told her he’d done terrible things for the rebellion just before they left for Scarif. He’d gone there intending to kill her father. But Cassian wasn’t to blame for her father’s death.  _ Sometimes we do the wrong thing for the right reason _ . She couldn’t get into all that with him now. It was all too raw still, and he was in too much pain. 

Instead, she focused on a safer topic. “I don’t know what class of ship this is, but it’s designed for a crew of four at least, and there’s food and supplies. And a hold full of stuff that may or may not be of use to us. I found food in the galley, if you’re hungry.” 

His face broke into a half a smile. “I am hungry.” 

Jyn perched on the side of the bed, across from where he sat in the chair. He glanced at her several times while they were eating. After about the fourth time, she said, “What?”

He waved a vague hand in her direction. “You look different.”

“Different? How?”

He shrugged. “Just ... different.”

Jyn pulled her fingers through her hair, now dry and hanging loose around her shoulders. “I haven’t got my hair up,” she said, watching him.

He nodded, and carried on eating. “Perhaps that’s it.”

“You look different too,” she said, with a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

He looked down at the black t-shirt and his bare legs. “I guess I do,” his face broke, momentarily into the ghost of a smile too, but there was too much tightness there for it to take hold.

He said nothing more. After they had eaten, Jyn leaned over and took his plate. “Does it hurt much?”

Cassian looked down at his feet in surprise. “Not as much as it did. Not as much as it  _ should _ . I’ve never been in a bacta tank, so it’s hard to say what it should be like.” 

Cassian’s soft voice sounded almost hypnotic, and her eyes became heavy. She wondered, dimly, if they should talk about the others. Speculate together if they too escaped Scarif with their lives. Her mind kept returning there: the battle, the flames. Could Baze, Chirrut and Bodhi possibly have survived? She wanted to ask Cassian what he thought, but somehow she didn’t know how to broach it. Talking about it would force the cold hard facts into the open. Scarif had been obliterated, so logically, how could they have escaped? If they didn’t talk about it, maybe it would be easier to hold onto her irrational hope that the others had found their own miracle. Perhaps they would see each other again someday. 

How long had she and Cassian known each other? It couldn’t have been more than three days, but it felt like much longer. But really, she knew nothing about this man. Except that he couldn’t shoot her father in cold blood. And he didn’t quit when things went bad. Perhaps that was enough. It was a place to start, anyway. 

Cassian sat stiffly in the chair, his back bolt upright. She wondered how much pain he was actually in. His skin was still pale. He was staring at her now, though. “You look exhausted. Have you slept since we got here?”

Jyn shook her head. “Too much to do. I’ve scanned the immediate area. I don’t detect any Imperial presence. Or much of anything, really. But—”

“You should get some rest, Jyn. Bring me a portable terminal. I’ll call you if anything shows up.” 

Jyn found a portable in a dock in the cockpit and routed the ship’s scanning functions though it. She placed it on his lap, and then retreated to the bathroom’s doorway. “There’s another bedroom the other side of this bathroom. I’ll sleep through there,” she said, feeling inexplicably awkward about it. She didn’t want to leave him, but nor did she think she would sleep with him sitting so close. That would be too much like a cell, and she wasn’t going back to a dank, dark prison block anytime soon.

“Sure.” Cassian’s eyes were already on the portable terminal, no doubt bringing up the damage report and working out how long it would take them to get airborne and back in the fight. “While we’re here it makes sense to use the space,” he said without looking up. 

Jyn nodded, bone weary now. “I’ll leave the doors open, so I’ll hear if you call,” she said. He might have replied, he might not, but Jyn didn’t hear, as she stumbled her way to the bed and then fell into an ocean of dark dreams.

#

For the first few days, Cassian worked at the portable terminal, scanning the surrounding area, assessing the damage to the ship, submerged to his shins in the bacta fluid. It was remarkable how quickly the bruises faded. Jyn brought him food and drink, which he gratefully accepted, and helped him to care for himself, which he grudgingly complied with. He didn’t like being helpless, that much was clear. 

“Will you let me look at your back?” Jyn said on the third day.

He shook his head. “No need. It’s okay.”

Jyn didn’t really believe him, but she let it drop. 

“Just help me to the cockpit,” he said. 

Jyn rolled her eyes. “I told you, everything is fried up there. Hull integrity is down past anything we can fix out here. Look, the bacta fluid has accelerated your healing, but you can’t start rushing around.”

“I can rig a long-range scan to find the closest settlement without rushing anywhere. Perhaps get a message—”

“To who? Let the Empire know where we are while you’re still hobbling around and there is no chance we can get in the air?” 

He flinched as he stood up, but insistently waved her closer so he could grab her shoulder and get on his feet in the cramped bedroom.

“Alright. I’ll take you there. But it won’t help,” she said.

They made it to the cockpit, and she left him once he’d got himself into the pilot’s chair. Let him see for himself, she thought irritably. She was itching to get outside.

She stopped at the small armoury. It held six blasters, one of which she’d strapped to her waist, another she’d given to Cassian. She stood, in front of the gun gage and idly fingered her Kyber crystal necklace. What she’d really need, in this terrain, was a knife. She opened the cage and searched again. Then she saw it: glistening and sharp, a hunting knife with a dark green handle laying at the bottom of the gun-cage. How had she missed that the first time?  As she took the hilt in her hand, she breathed a bit more easily. 

Jyn stepped off the ship and into the fresh, clean air, that smelled of the forest and the lake. The first time she came out she had been dragging the pilot’s dead body, and she hadn’t taken time to look around. But now she looked carefully each time she left the ship, savouring the freshness, the absence of technology, the cleanness of the place.

Jyn took a deliberate, deep breath in and let it flow out through her mouth. They had landed on a beach, between a wide open lake and a deep forest. The sand stretched far and away to the left and right, vanishing into the distance. The water was clear and still, and for a moment she revelled in its stillness. It seemed like only moments ago she had been kneeling on a beach, clinging to Cassian, a grey wall of death racing towards them. And now she was here.

Cassian was alive; injured, irritable, but remarkably alive. Perhaps the others were alive too. Maybe they could get a message to the Alliance Headquarters and a rescue party would be here in a few days.  

Calmness settled in her chest, her annoyance at Cassian dissipating as the lake stretched before her, the innocent waters clear and blue. A warm wind blew across from the mountains beyond, and jungle birds from the whistling, chirping canopy behind carried through the still air. She leaned against the ship for a moment, her shoulders relaxing as the sun started its steady climb through the blue sky. There were, she mused, much worse places in the galaxy where they could have been stranded.

#

Over the next few days, they settled into a routine. Jyn scouted the nearby section of the forest, set traps, caught some small mammals, and picked berries to stretch the rations they’d found on the ship as far as they could. 

Cassian hated not being able to get around, and his frustration rubbed off on Jyn. So on the seventh day she rose early and set her traps while he still slept.  She then found two long branches to turn into makeshift crutches. 

“They’re not much. But perhaps they’ll make it easier for you,” she said, as she handed them over. 

He put his weight experimentally on the frame. “Not bad. Thank you.” His face almost threatened a smile, but not quite. Jyn wondered what it would take to crack him.

Cassian worked doggedly, day after day to fix the ship. As he became more mobile, he spent hours with a laser welder trying to fix the hull. He repaired section after section, but the hull integrity increased only by fractions of a percent every time.

“That won’t work, you know,” she told him one afternoon, thoroughly fed up with the heat and noise from the welder. 

“I didn’t expect you to quit so easily,” he said. 

Jyn folded her arms and said nothing. “It’s not quitting to admit something’s beyond repair.”

“Well, that’s where you and I disagree. I think it’s salvageable.” 

Jyn shook her head. “You’re delusional.”

She had been thinking about clearing the shrubs at the edge of the tree line, and planting a few seeds from the soft fruit bushes she’d found. In her life before, on the many planets she’d called home for a short while, she’d seen people planting, tending and harvesting crops. She’d just never seen the whole process in one place before. Perhaps it wouldn’t be a bad thing to watch something grow. She stalked off without a word.

That evening, when she’d cleared the ground and planted the seeds, Cassian approached. He so rarely ventured out that seeing him shocked her. 

He stood in front of her, blocking the golden sun. “We won’t be here long enough to harvest those.”

“Oh? Made contact, have we? Mon Mothma sending a fleet of rescue ships?” 

He squinted down at her. “Why are you so sure they won’t?”

“Why are  _ you _ so sure they will?” she snapped.

“If we can’t leave, then it’s a prison. I can’t just sit back and accept that. I thought you’d understand. I refuse to lose hope.”

“Me either. I  _ hope _ we can eat next month, whether we’re rescued or not,” she snapped. “So while you’ve been tinkering with the ship, which by the way we both know will never lift off again, I’ve been gathering wood and hunting so we can eat and stay warm! That’s not losing hope. That’s surviving!”

He scowled and then rubbed his back. He let his shoulders slump a little, and sighed. “I know,” he said softly. “I appreciate what you’ve done.”

Not an apology, but  it was the closest to saying sorry that he’d come so far. Jyn stood up, quashing her annoyance. “Is your back still stiff? Perhaps a swim in the lake would help loosen it up.”

“In the lake? What if there are giant waterworms in there?” he said, in mock horror. Jyn couldn’t quite make out if he was serious or not.

“Well, I’ve been in, and the waterworms stayed away,” she said.

“You’ve been swimming? When?”

“After I hunt. Almost every day. You’d know if you stuck your nose out here more often.”

He stared at her intensely, so intensely she started to feel uncomfortable. He had quite the smouldering stare when he chose to use it. She didn’t know how she was supposed to feel about that, or why it raised her pulse rate.

He said nothing, and stalked back to the ship. Jyn sighed. This was why she kept her distance. Exactly this. She refused to let herself be played. She could see it all and map it out like the last time she let her guard down and fell for a pilot. She’d learned her lesson; take your pleasure when you need it, but leave your heart out of it. She stuck her makeshift shovel hard into the earth and stood up.

To her surprise, Cassian emerged from the ship, wearing just his shorts. He stood uncertainly by the water’s edge. She frowned and stood next to him. What was he waiting for?

“You can swim, can’t you, Captain?” she said, suppressing a smile.

“Not many pools where I grew up,” he replied, looking straight ahead. “Where did you learn?”

“On Najiba. Lots of water.” 

He took a hesitant step towards the water, and then looked up at her. “Will you teach me, Jyn? To swim?”

She felt a warmth spread through her chest. A warning bell jangled at the back of her mind, but she shrugged it off. One swimming lesson wouldn’t hurt. Didn’t mean she had to sleep with him. 

She stripped to her underwear and dived in quickly.. She floated on her back, and waved to him. 

“Come on, it’s fine,” she called. He walked in up to his waist, and then threw his crutches back to the shore. When she swam around him, she saw his back again for the first time since they had crashed here. The bruising was fading, but she could see why it still ached. 

“We could have used some of that bacta fluid for your back, you know,” she said.

He shook his head and submerged himself. “No. We might need it. What if you get sick?”

“Well according to you we won’t be here much longer, so I don’t see why that matters,” she said. 

He looked away, wouldn’t meet her eye. And now suddenly she didn’t want to be looking in his eyes, either. 

“Okay,” she said, business-like, turning her back to him. “Hold onto my shoulders. Let your body float, and move your legs.” 

He gripped her shoulders, but she couldn’t see what he was doing, so it was no use at all.

“Wait. Let me turn around. There.” Now she could see him, his body was at a strange angle in the water. “Relax. Kick your legs gently.” She started to move backwards, as he propelled himself forward a little. She brought her hands up, encouraging him to grip her forearms.

His frown of concentration relaxed into a part smile. 

“Good.” She let his hands run down her arms, until they were hand in hand, eye to eye. She was suddenly aware of not being fully clothed, of his eyes so carefully on her face, not looking at her chest, not once. Somehow that made her feel more uncomfortable. She couldn’t chew him out for gawking, so why did she feel so flushed? Did she  _ want _ him to look?

She cleared her throat. “Okay, I’ll let you go. Just keep kicking.” She watched him push off, swim a few clumsy strokes, sink, and then stand up.

He looked so ridiculous sputtering and shaking his head. She tried not to laugh, but couldn’t help it.

“Oh, you think that’s funny?” he said, deadly serious for a moment. Then he scooped up a palm full of water and splashed it at her face.  

She giggled and splashed him back with gusto. 

“You are a terrible shot,” he said, ducking away, grinning.

Jyn splashed him again. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed like this. Maybe the last time she laughed was on Lah’mu with her mother and father.  Laughter echoed across the lake until the sun began to lower over the mountains, and the sinking sun drove them to shore. 

She felt his eyes on her as she quickly pulled her shirt back over her wet body, but when she looked up he was gazing out over the lake. 

“I wonder what’s beyond the mountains,” he said. “The scanners might not penetrate that far. There could be a spaceport ten miles from here and we wouldn’t know it.”

“We’d see traffic, surely,” she said, hating that his thoughts had strayed over the mountain. 

“Perhaps, perhaps not.” He shook the water from his hair. “I’m going to focus a tight scan on that sector, see if it turns anything up.” He walked as fast as he could back to the ship.

_ You do that, Captain. _ Jyn ran her fingers through her own hair, tugging at the knots that had tangled themselves there. Just when she’d started to relax and dared to hope that life might drift on in this peaceful state a while longer.

He paused, looking back. “Thanks for the lesson,” he said. “We should do this again, before. . .”

“Before we leave?” Jyn said, her throat tightening. There it was. He wanted to go. She understood it, of course she did.  _ She _ wanted to leave too. So why were her eyes stinging?

He nodded, but didn’t say anything more; he just took a wistful glance at the mountains and disappeared into the ship.

#

“Do you want to eat outside?” Jyn said. “It’s not quite dark yet.” Cassian looked up from the instrument panel. She thought he was going to say no, and eat while he worked on whatever plan he was currently obsessing with, as he had on so many other nights. But perhaps the water had loosened him up, somehow, as tonight he smiled and nodded. 

“I’d like that,” he said. “I’ll leave this running.” 

“The fuel cells are holding up well,” Jyn said, looking at the power outage readings.

“These Durafly ion engines can go forever, if they’re just powering the low key systems that we’re running.”

They sat beside the fire, where Jyn had a small mammal she’d caught that morning roasting on the spit. She could have used the small galley inside the ship, but it was nicer to cook and eat outside. It seemed more peaceful. 

“I think my legs are good enough to help you outside more, now,” Cassian said. He waved at the log pile Jyn had collected by the back of the ship. “I can gather wood.”

Jyn smiled. This was the first time he’d taken any interest in anything outside the ship. “There’s a big tree down a little way in. I’ve been splitting the logs and bringing bits back.”

They lapsed into silence again. “What do you think happened to the others, Cassian? I try not to think about it, but I can’t help it.”

Cassian’s cheek twitched, and Jyn almost regretted her words, but not quite. It was no good  _ not _ talking about this stuff. It would drive them crazy.

He sighed, and glanced at the ship. “We got away. Maybe they did too.”

“Perhaps. K2 didn’t,” Jyn said. How she had gone from hating his shiny face and his biting sarcasm, to almost loving him a few days later, she couldn’t fathom. But she missed him.

“No, he didn’t. He’d been with me a long time.” Cassian scratched the back of his head and let out a long breath.

Jyn squeezed his hand, briefly. “I’m sorry.” 

He covered hers with his own, and patted the top of her hand, awkwardly.

“Funny thing, though,” Jyn said. “There’s a smashed up KX security droid in the hold.” She’d gone through the piles of junk while Cassian still had his feet in the bacta fluid, and then forgotten about the forlorn-looking droid. 

“Is there? I’ll take a look tomorrow. Perhaps I can get it operating again.” He looked up at her then, and his eyes seemed to hold hers in place. “It could help carrying those logs,” he said, softly. “Protect us, while we are here.”

It was almost dark now, but the evening was still warm. The fire flickered softly, reflecting in his eyes as he looked out over the lake and took her hand again. 

“There are worse places to be stranded,” he said. “And worse people to be stranded with.” He reached over and gave her a chaste peck on the cheek.

“What was that for?”

“For saving my life. And putting up with me being an ass.” He stood up and headed for the ship.

“Does this mean you’re through being an ass?” she called at his back.

“No promises,” he said, smiling over his shoulder. “Goodnight.”

**#**

Jyn slept restlessly on her side of the bathroom that night. She dreamed she was looking through field glasses at Chirrut and Baze, who stood together high up on the mountain beyond the lake. Bodhi dashed in and took their little ship, despite her yelling at him that it wouldn’t fly. He flew the ship anyway, and after a stuttering take-off, careened it into the mountain side where Chirrut and Baze stood. She and Cassian watched in horror. She cried bitter, angry tears she would fight to the last if she was awake. In her dream, Cassian held her, saying her name, stroking her hair. But his warm chest became the solid, cold steel of a droid, and it was K2 awkwardly patting her back. She woke, screaming.

Cassian was at her side almost instantly, blaster in his hand. “What’s wrong?” His eyes were searching, alert. 

Jyn groaned. “Nothing.”

“You’re shaking.” He holstered his blaster and sat on the side of the bed.

“It was just a dream,” she insisted. “I’m fine.”

“You are shaking, though.” He took her hand. 

She gripped it tight for a moment. It was comforting to know he was close, that she wasn’t alone. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” As he stroked the back of her hand, warmth coursed through her body. Despite herself, she imagined him holding her, kissing her, touching her. But, that voice in the back of her mind cried caution.

She shook her head. He was too close. Dangerously close. She was afraid her body would betray her. It would be so easy to fall into those brown eyes of his and find comfort together in the dark. So hard to put her heart back together when they left and he disappeared into the rebel fleet. 

“I’m fine, Cassian. Go to sleep. In your bed. Go back to your bed and sleep.” She was aware she was gabbling, and even in the low light she thought she saw hurt in his eyes. 

“Jyn,” he whispered, moving closer, putting a gentle hand to her face.

Her body tingled, responding to his closeness, wanting more. Wanting to close her eyes, kiss him and forget everything else except the warmth of his hands on her skin. If only it were that simple. Years of self-preservation kicked in. This could get complicated fast. It was no hit and run with a stranger from a bar, on her own terms, knowing she was protected. She’d had no contraception for weeks now, there was none aboard, she’d checked. Just out of curiosity, mind.  _ That _ was one sort of mess she didn’t want to deal with. A mass of conflicting emotions boiled in her chest. Wants, needs, desires, but legitimate fears and cautions too. She was unprotected, emotionally and literally when it came to Cassian Andor.

He leaned in towards her, to kiss her, and a big part of her wanted that. So much. But she didn’t get this far on her own by throwing caution to the wind.  

“Cassian, please don’t.” Her throat tightened, as if she was being choked by her own words.  

“You don’t trust me,” he said, letting his hand drop.

She couldn’t find any words to respond to that. How could she explain that it wasn’t him she distrusted, but herself? That she dare not start to love him, because she was afraid that if she did, she would never stop? That every single person she’d ever loved died or was taken away, and she couldn’t bear that to happen again? Not to him. No, she decided, she would not fall for Cassian Andor.

He left the room, without looking back. 

Jyn turned her face to the pillow and refused to cry. 

#

When Jyn woke, Cassian was already at work in the hold, clattering and banging something fairly rigorously. She squeezed her eyes tight shut, and wanted to make the world go away. He’d reached out to her last night and she’d pushed him away. The tug of wanting comfort, wanting  _ him _ , pulled against the fear that was always with her; that it could never last. Nothing good ever did. But she hadn’t meant to hurt him, and she pretty much hated herself for it. He was bound to resent her, now too. And that would make life difficult. But, she told herself, she’d had reasons, good ones, to be cautious. Why was this so complicated?

Still, she mused, as she boiled the kettle in the galley, this complicated situation was preferable to being  _ dead _ . So she made two mugs of hot chav, screwed up her nerve, and took them to the hold. 

Cassian was knee deep in circuit boards and droid parts.

Jyn smiled, nervously, and handed him a mug. “Cassian, I’m sorry about last night. I feel like I need to explain—”

Cassian looked up from the chest panel of the K2 unit, and took the drink. He didn’t seem angry at all. “You don’t have to explain,” he said, with earnest eyes, his voice soft. “I don’t expect anything of you. Especially not  _ that _ .”

“Oh,” Jyn said. That was unexpected.  She’d anticipated a lecture on how they were here all alone and they should make the best of things. The sort of spiel pilots liked to give on the night before they shipped out, explaining that as they might be dead tomorrow, she really should sleep with them now. She’d heard it a few times, fallen for it more than once, and sometimes regretted it. 

Cassian went on, “I hoped you might want the same things I do, but it’s really okay that you don’t.” 

He sounded sincere. That was typical. Just when she’d persuaded herself not to fall in love with him, he goes and says something like that. She stared at him, hard, trying to see if he was playing her, but he just smiled. 

“Give me time to soothe my wounded pride. Fifty or sixty years should do it,” he said, setting his drink down.

Jyn suppressed a laugh. Had she finally met a man who wasn’t a slave to his ego? Perhaps he  _ was _ a keeper. If only they got the chance.

“Look, this K2 unit is not so badly damaged. I think it was caught in an electrical surge. I can update its logic circuits and reprogram it. I’ve done it before.”

Jyn grinned. “You can really fix it?”

“Sure. You want me to make this one less sarcastic?”

Jyn thought for a moment. “No. He kind of grew on me.”

Cassian beamed back. “Pass me the pleximeter. I’ll show you how it’s done.” 

By the end of the day, after some clever re-programming and more than a little re-wiring, the K2 unit powered back to life. 

Jyn grinned at Cassian. “I can’t believe this worked!”

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Cassian asked the droid.

“I was part of a security detail en route to Scarif when a power coupling malfunction overloaded my data-core.” 

“Well, you have a new mission.”

“And what is that?”

“While we are here, your job is to protect us and maintain this homestead.”

The K2 unit tilted its head to one side for a brief moment. 

“I have analysed the available data for this planet. Given resources and immediate environment the chances of long-term survival are approximately twelve thousand to one.”

Jyn smiled, and tapped the K2 unit’s chest. “That’s okay. Forget about the twelve thousand, and concentrate on the one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first Star Wars fic, so all feedback is greatly appreciated!


	4. Into the Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jyn and Cassian have a dangerous encounter with some wildlife in the jungle.

“Jyn,” Cassian’s voice broke through her dreams. “Wake up. I want to show you something.” He hovered in the doorway of their shared bathroom, not having set a foot in her bedroom since _that_ night, a few weeks previously.

She looked at him blearily. “What is it?”

“Come and see.”

Jyn sat up, and he disappeared, closing the bathroom door while she dressed. When she emerged he thrust a cup of chav in her hand. “Come on, let’s have breakfast outside.”

“Okay.” She followed a few paces behind him, watching his gait. He walked steadily, without the limp that had been slowing him down. “No crutches?”

He shrugged. “Don’t need them anymore.”

Jyn followed him out of the shuttle past K2, his spindly legs, even after several weeks, seeming to find it hard to find purchase on the soft sand. “What’s going on?” she whispered to the droid.

“Cassian made me promise not to tell you.”

Cassian strode out to the vegetable plot. “Look,” he said, pointing at the soil.

Jyn sunk to her knees on the earth. Tiny green shoots were finally poking their way through the dark soil. She had started to think that the soil must be wrong, or that the seeds were bad, because day after day nothing had grown. She’d kept watering and hoping, refusing to give up. And now patches of green spread before her.

She ran her finger over one tiny shoot. “It’s amazing. And look, this one is different.” The first shoot she touched was a long, thin blade, like the sky corn her father had so inexpertly farmed on Lah’mu.  A few feet away three tiny leaves clustered around a broad stalk: that put her in mind of root vegetables. “Funny,” she said, frowning. “I thought I got all the seeds from the same plant.”

Cassian picked up a fist full of dirt. “This place is full of surprises.” Jyn watched his face as he let the soil run through his fingers. He was smiling, a contented, honest smile. It changed his whole face when he smiled, she realised. She could stand to see a lot more of that.

#

Later that day, Cassian and Jyn went deeper into the forest. K2 was pretty good at the heavy lifting, but ask him to find a new tree suitable for firewood, and he was stumped. The forest stretched for many miles, and all their scans had shown no sign of settlements. But there were some larger mammals deeper in, so they had both strapped blasters to their belts this morning.  

“I don’t suppose you had any luck with the comms?” Jyn said, as she picked her way through the dense shrubbery. She still asked him about his attempts to reach the rebel council, as she knew it mattered to him. The answer was always the same, though. Cassian fired message after message off on every resistance frequency he knew. But nothing ever came back.  

He shrugged. “Not yet. I’m thinking of varying the range on the channels.” He held aside a low branch to let Jyn through behind him.

How long would he keep at it, Jyn wondered. Another month? A year? Forever?  Something crackled behind them, disturbing twigs on the forest floor. The hoots and yells of the canopy above grew suddenly silent.

Jyn grabbed Cassian’s arm. He nodded, silently, his eyes suddenly alert and searching, his hands on his weapon. He pointed at a nearby tree trunk wide enough to conceal them both. Flattened behind it, backs pressed to the gnarly bark, blasters ready, they waited. The sweet, calming smell of forest flowers hung in the air, at odds with Jyn’s racing heart. She stole a glance towards the bushes the noise had come from. The leaves rustled, and a snorting, sniffing grunt carried across the clearing.

A boar-like beast burst from the bushes. It froze in the middle of the clearing, its snout twitching, its small black eyes darting around.

Jyn exhaled and relaxed, holstering her blaster. “It’s just a forest-pigster,” she said, unsheathing her knife. She’d caught plenty of creatures like this in her time. The trick was to be fast and clean with the cut. They would eat well tonight. She stepped into the clearing.

“Jyn, no!” Cassian exclaimed.

“Relax, it’s just a—”    

The pigster bolted towards her, squealing, almost knocking her off her feet. As she spun deftly around, her knife sliced through the soft flesh of its throat. The creature crashed to the floor. _I can still take a moving target. Cassian is afraid of shadows._

A moment later, she saw her mistake. Behind the pigster a huge predator bared its teeth, snarling, cat-like, but bigger, with dark leathery skin and powerful front paws. Jyn’s heart raced. This place had made her soft, with its blue sky and white sands, its gentle sloping beach and calm waters. As she dove backwards, the creature leapt.

Jyn spun away, but not quickly enough. The claws dug deep in her forearm, her scream mingling with the creature’s roar. The leaves underfoot were a slippery mulch and she felt herself sliding. She crashed down on her side, pain shooting across her hip as she made contact with a log or branch on the forest floor. Above, slathering fangs and red, angry eyes burned down at her. She’d pay for this mistake with her life. Perhaps it was a just retribution for the lives she’d taken and those she’d failed to save. A quick, bloody end; instead of a blast of fire like her father, or like every soul in Jedha city, smothered by rocks, mud and dust. Perhaps this would be a good, clean death.

Cassian took a shot. The creature bounded away, its long tail slashing across the clearing. Jyn heard Cassian shout as the tail struck his arm. The blaster whipped from his hand and fell to the forest floor.

The beast roared, a terrible and deafening roar that she felt in her chest, its breath hot and dank in the air.

Jyn tried desperately to move away, scrabbling in the twigs and mud, but the beast swung in her direction before she had moved two feet.

Cassian yelled, “Hey, hey!” at the creature, waving his arms. He was trying to distract it. Making himself bait.

Jyn closed herself off to pain and fear, just like Saw had taught her all those years ago. _“Time enough to be hurt and scared when you’re dead, child. While you breathe, you fight._ ”

The beast had its fiery gaze fixed on Cassian now. _Oh no you don’t_. She clasped her fingers tight around the knife, springing to her feet.

Cassian backed away towards a thick bush. But there was no way out for him. He’d be pinned by the snarling beast. “Jyn, run!” he yelled.

“Like hell!” She wasn’t going to lose Cassian today, not after surviving so much together. Not through a stupid mistake like this. She clasped the knife’s blade in her teeth, and launched herself onto the beast’s back. Its leathery, slippery skin gave little to hold, so she clasped her legs tight around its belly. Despite that, she immediately started to slip. She plunged the knife deep between its shoulder blades. The creature threw its head back, rearing upwards, roaring in pain. Jyn held tight to the knife as the enraged beast bucked and screamed around the clearing.

Cassian called her name. He’d found the blaster.

“Jump!” he yelled. Jyn left her knife and leapt from the beast’s back, crashing to the floor. Cassian’s weapon discharged in a flash of green light and static, and the stink of burning flesh.

The animal was knocked off its feet, and tumbled over and over in the air towards the spot where she lay. It was easily big enough to crush her. She scrambled back, back from its falling body, away from the teeth and claws.

Then Cassian was pulling her, helping her back out of reach, his arms around her. The beast gave a roar that juddered through her chest. Jyn snatched sharp breaths, her heart thundering. Could this be it? Had they escaped the beach against all odds, only to die in each other’s arms at the jaws of a wounded jungle cat?

Cassian raised the blaster and fired.

The creature fell to the floor with a whimper. Jyn watched as it took a last shuddering breath before falling silent. Burning flesh assaulted her nose.

Jyn closed her eyes. She was shaking. She clung onto Cassian. His arms around her were comforting in a way she barely remembered, or perhaps she had never known. Trembling, for a moment she pulled him closer, burying her face in his neck, breathing heavily, close to sobbing. She wanted to hold him and never let go. He stroked her back, his own breathing sharp and hot on her neck.

Then those nagging fears, doubts that assailed her relentlessly flooded back into her mind. _Don’t get too close. Don’t care too much._ She pulled back from him.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine. It’s just a scratch,” she said, anger with herself building to a sharp knot in her chest. How could she have been so stupid? “You shouldn’t have done that. Making yourself bait. You might have died for my idiotic mistake.” She pulled herself to her feet. She’d let her guard down. She flushed deep red, embarrassed he had seen her so weak and foolish.

“Jyn, we’re in this together. Let me take a look at your arm.”

She shook her head and gave the beast a quick kick with her boot to make sure it was dead. “No need. Let’s work out a way to take the pigster back.”

They carried the dead creature awkwardly between them. Jyn couldn’t meet Cassian’s eyes as they stumbled their way back through the forest. She didn’t know what was worse, making the mistake in the first place, or falling apart afterwards. She hated feeling so needy.  

As the camp came into sight Cassian stopped them, putting the pigster down.

“Jyn your face is burning up.”

“I’m fine,” she snapped, her head throbbing. Why wouldn’t he let it drop?

He grabbed her arm. Her vision blurred. She made a half-hearted effort to push him away, but her strength drained from her. He was pulling up her sleeve. He swore.

Jyn looked down at her arm. The wound oozed green, and the veins leading away from the cuts ran a dark, ugly black. His face swam before her.

“I really am perfectly fine,” she whispered. Her knees weakened. She felt herself falling and then she was in his arms, her head resting against his chest. “I’m okay,” she said faintly.

“Of course you are,” she heard him say, from far away. Then all she knew was that he was running, shouting for K2, and that it was suddenly very, very hot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me a comment to let me know how you like this fic, or just to say hello. It makes my day to see a message in my inbox from a reader.


	5. Rest Easy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jyn has been injured, Cassian takes care of her. Sometimes, holding hands does help.

Jyn existed in a rush of fevered dreams. She was a small child in a dark hole, waiting for Saw Gerrera, with images of her mother falling to the dust playing over and over in her mind. Jyn watched her young self weeping bitterly for Lyra. It was a paradoxical grief, a spikey, bitter grief, laced with anger. How could her mother have left her? Thrown her life away on a pointless gesture, leaving little Jyn all alone in the dark? She wanted to scream. For a moment she _was_ screaming aloud.  She felt a coolness on her brow, heard soft words whispered in her ear. _I’m here. You’re not alone. Rest easy._

Later, the dreams came in strobing, sharp flashes. The shattered earth cascading towards them on the wreckage of Jedha morphed and became the solid wall of dark water on Scarif. The rain and fire and clattering metal and screams of Eadu blotted out everything. Then the chill of the Imperial vault on Scarif, then the heat of the beach, the blue sky streaked with flames and the scars of rebel ships death throes and they plummeted from the sky. She was burning, heating up on the inside. Ready to ignite. Like the Death Star, planet killer. Had she done enough to stop it? Could anything ever be enough?

Then Cassian’s soothing voice broke through the madness. He pressed a cool flannel to her face, and the burning and the dreams receded, only for a new fear to take its place.   

“You’re going to leave me,” she croaked, half sobbed. She couldn’t hold anything back; her mind was clouded, her resistance gone. She was as lost and vulnerable as that small girl in the dark, damp bunker back on La’mu.

“Listen to me, Jyn Erso. I will not leave you. I swear it,” he said, his voice slicing through the fog in her brain. He took hold of her hand.

She gripped his hand urgently, gratefully, and drifted back into a fitful sleep.

#

In the darkness Jyn heard a voice. _The strongest hearts are made of Kyber_.

She started awake. The first thing she saw was Cassian in the chair by her bed. He held her hand, his head resting on his arm, fast asleep. She watched him for a moment. His face was so peaceful. She wondered how long she had been out. Her stiff limbs longed for movement, and as she stirred, so did he.

“Hey. How do you feel?” he asked, sitting up.

“Ugh.”

“That good, eh?”

She shook her head. That was a mistake. Her temples pounded like a whole squad of Stormtroopers across a metal deck.

“What happened?” She remembered being attacked in the forest, raging, distant dreams, but not much more.

“The panthress has venom in its claws. It was touch and go for a while, but K2 synthesised an antidote.”

Jyn looked at Cassian, who appeared more unkempt than she’d ever seen him. “How long was I out?”

“Three days. You want a drink?” He passed her a tumbler.

She realised how thirsty she was after the first sip.

“Go steady,” he said, holding the cup for her as her hands trembled. He paused, still holding her hand before he went on. “I had K2 position force field generators along the forest’s edge, and up the beach to make a fence. If there are more of those things, they won’t get past those.”

At the sound of voices, K2 appeared in the bedroom doorway. “See, I told you she would wake up soon.”

“Nice to see you too, Kay,” Jyn croaked. “You look tired,” she said to Cassian.

“That’s because he hasn’t slept in three days. I told him I was perfectly capable of watching you and waking him up if you came around, but he wouldn’t listen.”

“You’ve been here all this time?” Jyn asked, a little surprised.

Cassian shrugged, and his face coloured slightly. “I wanted to be sure you’re okay,” he said, letting her hand go. “You were dreaming.”

She remembered those dreams: images of her childhood, alone in the dark; flashes of Eadu, of Jedah and Scarif that morphed into a fevered rush of terror and destruction. Through it all she felt his presence, holding her hand. Always there for her.

“I’m sorry I messed up,” Jyn said, the memory of her blundering into the path of the panthress stark in her mind.

He shook his head. “You didn’t mess up.”

“I really did.”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re safe now. That’s all I care about.” He took her hand briefly, his eyes full of something she couldn’t—daren’t name, because her heart started to melt as he smiled.

“Do you want to get up?” he asked.

She sat up, experimentally, and found her headache eased off when she did. She couldn’t stop looking at him now. _He stayed. He stayed with me._ She really wasn’t used to people caring enough to stick around when things got tough. Cassian followed her to Scarif because he believed in the cause. He lived the rebellion, and she admired and respected that. But staying with her through fevered dreams, holding her hand, that was something else.

“You stayed with me,” she said.

He nodded. “You didn’t seem to want to be alone.”

Jyn’s eyes prickled, her throat tightened. Because wasn’t that what everyone wanted? Someone to stay with them in the dark?

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“No problem. I’ll leave you to get dressed. Call if you need anything.” He backed out of the room.

“He really stayed with me?” Jyn said to K2.

“I told him handholding would have no discernible effect on your immunological response to the toxin.”

“He stayed with me,” Jyn said, and this time she smiled.

#

_Three weeks later._

“Are you coming in?” Cassian called to Jyn from the lake. In the months since she had first taught him to swim, he’d mastered the skill. Each morning he pulled broad strokes across the still waters, and most mornings she joined him.

Their days fell into a routine: swimming, tending the vegetable plot, sending messages that never generated a reply, exploring the forest, checking their traps for the mammals that were their staple diet. It was a good life, Jyn decided. A simple life, but she felt at peace here in a way she never had anywhere else.

Cassian never stopped trying to repair the ship, although he’d agreed with her, finally, that it would never fly. But he kept the systems running to provide them with shelter, purify the water, and power the defence grids and coms system.

The ship’s hold turned out to be a treasure trove, filled with scrap they turned into all sorts of useful things. Some days Jyn couldn’t believe their luck. Other days she decided not to question it. When they found a big box of tools in the corner of the hold, Cassian decided to build a boat. They often saw small colourful fishes while they were swimming in the shallows. In deeper water there might be fish big enough to eat, if they could catch them.

Jyn dove into the water. “Are you going to work on the boat today?” she said as she surfaced.

“Yes. I think I can get it done in a couple more days. Then we could explore the other side of the lake.”

Jyn flipped over onto her back, and looked up at the clear blue sky. “Do you think the weather is going to change soon? I mean, we’ve must have been here weeks now, and it’s never much different.”

“One hundred and twelve days.”

“You’ve been counting the days?”

“You haven’t?”

“No.” She looked up at the sky. The crystal around her neck caught the rays of the sun, and scattered a rainbow across her chest. Time seemed to drift away here, but she didn’t care as much about that as she probably should. She watched the way Cassian pulled through the water, his lean body agile and lithe. The she forced her gaze back up at the sky. She shouldn’t be looking. But there was a voice at the back of her head saying, _why not?_ Maybe it was time to trust. Maybe it was time to take a chance on him. Take a chance on _them._


	6. The Mountain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassian spots what he thinks might be signs of life beyond the mountain. He and Jyn make a dangerous journey to investigate

“Cassian,” Jyn began, and even as she did she didn’t know where the sentence would end. She just knew it was time to talk. “Do you think anyone is going to find us?”

“We shouldn’t give up hope,” he said.

“No. But it’s not _terrible_ here. We could, maybe, I don’t know. Be happy.”

He squinted at her. “There’s still a war going on. Terror across the galaxy. Someone needs to analyse those plans and formulate an attack—”

Jyn sighed. “I know. But does it have to be you?”

“Are you saying you’re out, now? You’ve done your part, and to hell with everyone else?” His tone wasn’t angry exactly, but curiosity with a hard edge.

“No. I’m not saying that at all, I just—” She didn’t even know what she was trying to say, not really. How could she find words to express the complicated tangle of emotions in her chest? Tell him that she wanted to take a chance on loving him, but she was afraid, terribly afraid. Afraid she would give him her heart and he might break it. She didn’t think she would ever recover from that.  

#

Days later, Jyn looked up from tending the plants in the vegetable patch to see Cassian running towards her. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Did you see that?” Cassian pointed to the sky above the mountain.

“What?”

“A vapour trail!”

She squinted at the sky. “No, it’s just a cloud.”

“I don’t think so. It’s too straight. A ship made that.”

“Well, it could be, I suppose,” she said. The white line was already spreading and blending into the surrounding clouds.

Cassian dashed back into the ship. Jyn sighed and got up from her knees, brushing the dark soil from her legs. She took a long look back at the flourishing vegetable patch. All manner of fruits and vegetables seemed to be sprouting. It was quite perplexing, if she thought about it too much, just how varied, and how well, everything grew here. A tight ball constricted in her chest. She knew this day would come, that one day something would intrude on the life they had carefully built here.  Reluctantly, she followed Cassian back to the ship.

“Anything?” she asked, finding him bent over the exterior scanners.

“Hard to say. I think we should check it out. For all we know, there could be a spaceport just beyond these mountains.”

“You think?” she said. Her sceptical head kicked right in. They had seen and heard nothing all the time they had been here. Also, her plants were just now coming to fruit. “What about the plants? It must be three days’ walk. They’ll be dead by the time we get back.”

“We can leave K2 to manage things here. Keep the place secure.”

And something else bothered her, something less easy to define. She thought of the nights they’d spent sitting by the fire, looking up at the stars. The gentle peace and quiet of this place seemed to sooth her soul. Perhaps she was just getting sentimental. They probably _should_ check it out.

Jyn nodded, and couldn’t think of another good reason not to go.

#

Cassian worked on the boat late into the evening that day.

“Cassian. Come eat. It doesn’t matter if we don’t leave tomorrow. One more day won’t hurt.” 

He looked at her sideways. “I thought you would be keener to go.”

“I’m keen. I just think we need to be thoroughly prepared and not rush,” she said. She knew it was a lie. She sat in front of the fire and pulled her necklace out of her shirt, as she always did when she needed a guide, or her heart threw up complicated emotions she couldn’t understand, much less deal with. “I understand. I know you want to get back to the Alliance.”

He stared hard at her, his eyes burning into hers. She’d give a thousand Kyber crystals to know what was in his heart at that moment.

“What I want is complicated,” he finally said, and then turned and stalked back to the ship.

“Tell me about it,” she whispered, watching his back as he stepped aboard the ship and then out of sight.

#

They left at first light, leaving K2 a whole list of instructions on how to care for the camp. Jyn watched the ship and their patch of beach recede into the distance as Cassian rowed. Ahead, the open water of the lake and then the mountains. It was hard to judge the terrain exactly based on the mapping they’d done back on the ship, so she hoped the estimate of two days walking was right. Much more than that would be hard going, and the supplies they’d been able to pack were limited. They couldn’t guarantee finding food on the way. The jungle around their crash site seemed to have an abundant supply of things to eat, but the mountain terrain would be much sparser, and no doubt colder and harsher.

They left the boat at the foot of the mountain, pulled high beyond the waterline and hidden from prying eyes. Jyn took a glance back at the boat as they began their ascent. She blinked rapidly, and shook her head. For a moment, she thought she saw a figure, in red robes, standing by the boat.

“Cassian!” she called, but by the time she looked again, the figure was gone. “Did you see that?” She pointed at the boat.

“See what?”

“I thought I saw … . Never mind.” But she heard a voice, and she was not mistaken. Chirrut. _The strongest hearts are made of Kyber._

#

The first night, they found a cave in the early evening, and set a fire in the cave’s mouth. Jyn had caught a mountain grouse, and it made an adequate, if not substantial, meal.

“What do you think this planet is called?” Jyn asked Cassian as the moon rose through the inky sky. “We never did find out from the star charts.”

“I don’t know. I’ve been thinking of it as Chyana. It’s like a place I remember, from before.”

Jyn turned her head to him. He’d never talked about ‘before,’ never mentioned his past.  

“Did you live there?”

“Until I was six. Then everything changed. But I remember the blue sky, and the still water, and the forest. It probably sounds foolish, but I remember walking with my parents through a forest like the one back there, running, playing games. Feeling safe.  Being loved just because I was me. Not because of what I do for the Rebellion, or because time is short and we take pleasure where we can.” He gazed into the fire. “Those simple times never come again. We cannot reclaim them.”

“Haven’t you ever … been in love?”

He looked across at her then, the fire dancing in red flames in his eyes. “Don’t ask me that,” he said. “It’s hard to love a man like me. I’ve done terrible things in the name of the rebellion.”

“We do the things we need to survive.”

“Sometimes I think there must be more to life than surviving. Then I remember this is real life, not a fairy tale.” He laughed, a little sourly. His eyes drifted far away, to a distant place. A harder place.

Jyn took his hand. “It’s not wrong to want more from life, is it?”

“I don’t know. If we climb to the top of the mountain and see a spaceport the other side, what do we do?”

His eyes seemed so honest, so vulnerable. Jyn felt her heart breaking. Part of her wanted to turn back now, go back down the mountain to their little home. But that wouldn’t be fair to him. She couldn’t ask him to give up everything he believed in.

“If it’s what you want, of course we must rejoin the fleet.” Her throat was tight, as if it were trying to choke her words, but she forced them out regardless. Somehow she kept her face straight, neutral, and calm while telling the biggest lie of her life _. Of course they must go back._ Then they would most likely go their separate ways. That’s how life worked. He would be posted somewhere else, she would get a mission. They would be separated and their peaceful life here would become little more than a memory.

“Is that what you want, Jyn?” he said.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” The lie burned her throat.

He pressed his lips together, and nodded. He let her hand drop. “I understand,” he said. “We should get some sleep. I’ve rigged proximity alarms at the mouth of the cave. We’ll be safe here.”

Jyn nodded, mutely. She was glad of the low light, for he would not see the tear betraying her by sliding down her cheek.

#

They left the cave as soon as the grey dawn broke. Jyn felt something hard and heavy in her chest. She’d dreamed they were swimming together on the lake, laughing, splashing one another in the bright sun, when a fleet of ships darkened the sky. Then Cassian waved goodbye from the loading bay of a transport ship, and left her standing alone on the beach. She woke cold, stiff, and miserable.

The fierce wind at this altitude blasted Jyn’s cheeks, stinging her skin and making her eyes water. She walked silently beside Cassian for a few steps, and then stopped.

“Did you hear that?” A sinking feeling that they were not alone here curdled and twisted in the pit of her stomach.

“It’s just the wind.”

“No, not that. A deeper sound. Groaning.”

Cassian drew his blaster. They continued to walk, every sense Jyn possessed screamed at her. She told herself she was being foolish, that she was afraid of what they might find over the mountain, and that her fears were selfish.

The sun was bright, but it gave little warmth at this height. “I think we can reach the summit by midday,” Cassian said.

They pressed on, barely talking. Jyn didn’t know what to say. The easy comfort in each other’s company they had developed on the beach seemed to slip away with every step closer to whatever lay over the mountain.

“We’re close now,” Cassian said, his face unreadable.

Jyn nodded. The air was thin, so she saved her breath. Not that she trusted herself to speak anyway.

Cassian pulled a few steps ahead, and she let him go. When he reached the plateaux he stopped. Jyn paused, almost not wanting to join him. Just to live a few more seconds in her happy place on the beach before it was snatched away. But she had to face it. Cassian wanted to go, so she had to be strong. It didn’t matter what she wanted, there was more at stake than that. _Be strong, Stardust_.

Jyn took her place by Cassian’s side.

The other side of the mountain was a reflection of their side. A wide, clear, blue lake flanked by mountains, and an empty beach. Behind the beach was a wide stretch of forest. No spaceport, no ships or buildings of any kind: nothing but blue sky, white sand, and green forest.

“Cassian. I’m sorry,” she said softly.

He turned to her with a half-smile she couldn’t decipher. “I’m sorry too.”

The wind picked up. That rumbling groan vibrated through the ground.

Cassian heard it. He drew his blaster. “Let’s get back down to the cave.”

#

The light was fading long before the cave came back into view. “Are we lost?” All afternoon Jyn had the haunting feeling something was lurking just outside her vision.  

“Maybe just a bit.” Cassian frowned as he stared into the distance.

“I don’t recognise any of this,” Jyn said. Admittedly one mound of rocks or scree-filled slope looked pretty much like another. The dim light didn’t help. At least it got marginally less cold as they descended. Jyn longed for the little cave, and the fire they had built before they left this morning, ready to light if they returned.

They hugged the mountainside as they made their way along a narrow pathway with a steep drop to their right. In the dim light Jyn could barely see where she was putting her feet, or Cassian a few feet in front of her.

Suddenly Cassian stopped, turned around and grabbed her arm. “Look out!” She stumbled backwards. Her feet scrambled, slipped, and found nothing.

The path had crumbled away without warning, taking her with it. She screamed, the sound torn from her throat in terror as she hung, swinging from Cassian’s hand.

“I’ve got you. Can you get a foothold?” he said, his voice calm.

Jyn’s heart pounded, panic swamping her as she swung in his grip.

“Jyn, I won’t let you go. Just get a foothold.” She looked up into his eyes. She trusted him. Somehow she knew he wouldn’t let her go. Why did she keep pushing him away? In that moment, suspended over life and death, she thought herself a coward and a fool. She had to tell him how she felt. She tipped her toes at the edge of the cliff face, and wedged her boot into a crack. That gave her enough leverage to push herself up just a little. He pulled with all his might, and then grabbed her jacket at the back, pulling her waist-high onto the ledge beside him. They lay panting for a second on the narrow path, his arms still around her, his nose inches away from her face.  

“Cassian —”

A mighty roar rang through the night.

They hauled one another to their feet. “Which way is it coming from?” Cassian said, spinning around. It was impossible to tell, as the rocky walls echoed, and the darkness stole the last of the light. A pale moon overhead offered little illumination.

There was nowhere to go but forward, anyway. More carefully now, holding hands awkwardly in single file, they negotiated the narrow path.

“There,” Cassian pointed ahead, and in the darkness Jyn could just make out the mouth of the cave.

But their refuge was blocked by a towering shape: a shaggy, lumbering, giant beast, roaring its fury into the night. It stood on two legs, bear-like, teeth gleaming in the dark.

“Do you think we were sleeping in his bedroom?” Jyn asked.

“Possible. Shall I kill it?” Cassian had his weapon drawn. But the creature showed no signs of moving towards them.

Jyn put a hand over his. “Let’s just see what it does if we leave,” she said.

“We’ll have to stay out in the cold,” Cassian said. “And it might follow us.”

“It might not.” Jyn took a deep breath.

“Are you ready to take a chance?” Cassian said, already holstering his gun, taking her hand.

“If you are,” she said, “then so am I.”

#

The night passed in a blur of running, walking, and stumbling through the dark. The roars receded. Jyn was exhausted and footsore by the time they reached the boat. As the sun began to rise, weary to the bone, they both crept inside their boat where it lay on the shore.

“Let’s rest a moment, before we go,” Jyn said, finding a spot to sit on the boat’s floor. Cassian took the blanket from his pack, sat beside her, and covered them both best he could. Jyn moved close to him, and tried to formulate the words that had been going over and over in her mind on the long journey down the mountain. She was so tired she could barely speak.

“Just hold me, Cassian,” she mumbled. He put his arm around her, and she drifted into a dreamless sleep.

When she woke, the sun was high overhead, and Cassian was still by her side. She _had_ to find a way to tell him how she felt.

Her throat was dry and cracked. “Cassian,” she began uncertainly, “you saved me, and I keep pushing you away.”

“I told you before, you don’t owe me anything. I’d lay down my life for you a thousand times, and not expect anything in return.”

Jyn’s throat tightened, her eyes budding with tears. No one had ever said anything like that to her before.  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry there’s no space port. I’m sorry you are stuck here with me,” the words flowed from her, threatening a sob she couldn’t control.

“Me, stuck here with you?” he said, crouching and taking her hand. “My heart is yours, Jyn. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than by your side. But I didn’t think you would be happy here with me.”

“Cassian, I’m a mess. I’ve been so scared to let you in because I’m afraid that if I do, when you go, it will be too hard to bear.”

“Jyn, I won’t leave you.”

“Do you mean that?”

“I’ve never meant anything more.”

“We might be stuck here forever,” she said.

“I’d love you whether we had a moment, or eternity.” He pulled her closer, and whispered into her ear, “Can I kiss you now?”

He didn’t need to wait for an answer, because Jyn knew what she wanted. She kissed him, full and sweet. His lips were soft against hers, and the bristles of his beard brushed her chin. His kiss took her breath away; at turns gentle and testing, and then urgent and raw.

“I love you,” she whispered. “And I have for a very long time.”

When the kiss broke, he said, “Let’s go home.”

#

K2 was on the beach when they returned. “We’re leaving? There was a spaceport?”

“No, and no,” Cassian said.

“Then why are you both grinning like that?”

They stood, holding hands, and Jyn felt her face flushing.

“Never mind, K2,” Cassian said. “Just pull up the boat, will you?”

“Yes, and … go chop some logs,” Jyn added, waving him towards the woodpile. “Cassian and I have to … feed some new information into the data-base.”

“Oh, really?” K2 said, folding his arms in a comically sassy fashion. “Because it looks to me like you are going to commence sexual relations.”

“Gods, Cassian, did you programme him to understand _that_?”

“He just says whatever comes to his circuits.” Cassian wagged a warning finger at the droid. “No interruptions.”

They made it to Cassian’s bedroom in seconds flat. His hands were hot on her skin, under her shirt, exploring. They lay together, on his bed, just kissing. _This is what it feels like to kiss someone you love,_ she realised. Not someone passing through. Not a pleasure partner in a rushed encounter, or a late-night, alcohol-fused fuck. But the soft, gentle kisses of someone she truly loved and who loved her back. His fingers began to work on her buttons.  

“Cassian, we do need to talk.”

“Must we?” he said, pulling her shirt. “Now?”

“A little, yes. We’ve no contraception.”

“Ah, I know. And a baby would be rushing things?”

“Just a bit.”

He laughed. Then he whispered in her ear, “There are plenty of ways to make love without making a baby. We can try them all.” He kissed her neck, and his fingers worked on the buttons of her shirt some more. “If you like.”

“Oh, I like,” she said. “I like very much.”


	7. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jyn and Cassian find a life together.

“Do you ever wonder,” Jyn asked Cassian one lazy evening, after the day’s work was done and they sat together in front of the fire, “if the seasons ever change here? Everything grows so well.” They had been preserving meat and stockpiling root vegetables in case the weather turned, but so far it hadn’t happened. In fact, Jyn had lost track of how long they had been here. Was it a few months since they’d climbed mountain? Perhaps it was a year. She didn’t know anymore and she couldn’t bring herself to care about it as much as she should. 

Cassian turned the spit that was roasting their meat and then settled back by her side. Nights like these --the warm evening air, the crackle and pop of the fire, and the delicious smell of the meat cooking over the flames -- were gifts this planet gave them. She leaned into him, and he enveloped her in his arms. 

“I don’t know about the seasons,” he said, gazing thoughtfully into the fire. “Do you ever wonder about the things on the ship? I mean, that hold is full of junk. But when we really need something, a tool, a bit of equipment, chances are we find  _ something _ that does the job.” 

Jyn laughed. “I guess I just think that the universe owes us some good luck.”

“Yeah, me too. I say to myself, ‘ _ Chyana takes care of us’. _ ” 

They had christened the planet Chyana months ago, and Jyn liked the name. She watched Cassian’s face in the firelight.  He was beautiful. She never got tired of how he smiled, or of the warmth in his eyes and his gentle, soft laugh, but it was more than that. The man the Empire and the rebellion forced Cassian Andor into becoming seemed further away every day, and in his place was a kinder and gentler man. Chyana made him different. It made them both different. Or perhaps they made each other different. Maybe love really did heal. A year ago she would have scorned such a thought. But here, everything seemed simpler.

“Do you still think of going back?” she asked.

“I think of it less as time goes on. I don’t know if that’s right, or if I’m being a coward. But to tell you the truth, I don’t want to leave.”

“Really?”

“Truly.”

#

Some days, Cassian took the boat onto the lake to bring in fish for their evening meal, while Jyn tended the crops or set traps. It was better, they had found, to spend some time apart every day. Today, the sun was high and Jyn paused from her digging and watched him on the water. She squinted, shading her eyes from the sun, and then looked again. For a moment she thought she’d seen a second figure in the boat. Then it was gone. She shook her head to clear her vision. _It_ _must have been a trick of the light._

That night, as they lay together in his bed, in what had become  _ their _ bed, she told him what she thought she’d seen.

“Strangest thing. I drifted off to sleep while the line was in the water and I thought …” He paused and shook his head as if even he thought it was a bit crazy. “I thought I saw Churrit.”

“Churrit?” Jyn exclaimed. 

“I know. He said …  _ the strongest hearts _ —”

“—are made of kyber?” Jyn finished.

“How did you know?”

“He said it to me the day we met. And I think I dreamed it too, once. Maybe more than once. Did he say anything else?”

Cassian shook his head, bewildered. “I asked him questions. Where he was, if he knew what was happening. He just said, ‘Let Chyana take care of you, my friend’.”

Jyn fingered her kyber crystal necklace and wondered what it all meant. But she didn’t wonder too long, because Cassian was kissing her neck. 

“Do you think of them? Churrit and Baze? Of Bohdi?” she asked, as pleasure started to warm her, his skilful touch driving thoughts away.

“Sometimes,” he said. “But it’s fuzzy, distant, a bit like a dream lingering when you wake.”

He was right, she realised. Those days of fear, of anger and terror became like a holo-recording of a life that didn’t belong to her anymore. Sometimes she wondered if the life they were living  _ now _ was the dream. The white sand, blue sky, clear waters. Wasn’t this all too good to be true? She dare not say it aloud for fear of spoiling it. Anyway, he was driving those thoughts away with the things he was doing to her right now. 

“I hope,” Cassian said, laying a row of kisses along her jaw, down her breastbone and to her belly, “that wherever they are, they are as blessed as us.”

#

The days drifted on. “You know, I think we could build a store for our food. Next to the ship,” Cassian said, as they both sat in the cockpit looking out over the forest.

Jyn considered for a moment. They’d used lumber and K2’s brute force to put up a fence around the crops to keep the wildlife out. The trees made good planks. 

“Why stop there? We could build around the ship. Make it look like a hut. That way …” She paused and watched his face closely for clues on his thinking. Would he consider that hiding? Cowardice?

He took her hand and his eyes were smiling. “Make this a real home?”

She nodded. “I mean, if anyone did come they wouldn’t automatically know we’re here. We’d have a choice, at least.” 

He leaned over and drew her into a kiss. “I think it’s a great idea. And do you know a better one?”

Jyn shook her head, unable to imagine what he might be driving at. 

Cassian flipped open the comms unit inspection hatch. He looked up at her once, and then said, “Turning this message off. For good.” 

Jyn smiled, her heart dancing, light and free. “We could be stuck here.”

“I told you. I’ll love you if we had a moment, or eternity.” With that, he ripped out the wires connecting the transmitter to the power grid, and the message fell silent.

#

It took weeks to build their home, carefully planned and worked out. They used the ship as the heart of the living space, and still slept there, but made a homestead Jyn’s parents would have been proud of. Her father had not loved being a farmer, but he would have approved of the life she was living now. She was happy. And that was what he’d wanted for her, his message had said so.  _ If you are happy Jyn, then that is enough. _

When the work was done, they christened their home with the wine Jyn made from the goju berries collected from the forest.

“Big enough for a family of five,” Cassian said, as he raised a glass. Jyn tasted the sweet wine on her lips and watched him grin proudly by the fireside. 

What would a child of theirs be like? It would have dark hair and eyes, no doubt. Be fiery and brave. As a log crackled, she laughed, quietly. She’d always thought she would be a terrible mother. She was too hard at the edges, too sharp and unforgiving. But that Jyn seemed far away now. Chyana gave her another way of living. She liked the person she was here.  _ I hope I die here, _ she thought later, as she drifted off to sleep. 

#

“What’s going on in there?” Jyn said, late one evening, tracing lines across his chest. “I think your heart is troubled.”

He captured her hand, and held it in his. “Not troubled. Thoughtful.”

“What are you thinking?” She kissed his jaw, and wrapped her leg around his. She felt his body respond to her as it always did. She kissed his chest, and his breath caught as she began to work her way lower with kisses on his belly.

He took her face in his hands, and guided her back up, pulling her on top of him, wrapping his arms around her. He kissed her, and she felt him hard against her core.

“Careful,” she said, smiling, a rush of pleasure coursing through her.

“Would it be a terrible thing,” he said, kissing her jaw, “to have my child?”

Jyn looked at him, his soft brown eyes and his hopeful smile. 

“Are you saying that because you are tired of blow jobs?” she said, with mock seriousness, while a million thoughts crashed through her mind. Motherhood? She thought of it, of course she had. Lately more than ever. Could they really raise a child here?

He laughed. “I will never, ever be tired of blow jobs. But I mean it. We could do it. We’ve been here how long? A year, or two? More? This place is as safe as anywhere in the galaxy.”

“I just … worry about what will happen.”

“If we’re not rescued, you mean?”

“No. I worry about what will happen if we  _ are _ rescued. You’d get back in the fight. Maybe not at first, but you’d get drawn in and so would I. I’d lose you. That must sound terribly selfish. I’m sorry.”

“Jyn, the way I see it, a long time ago, in a dream, we got the Death Star plans to the alliance. It’s someone else’s war now. I decided a long time that you are the only thing worth fighting for. If Mon Mothma herself put down on the beach, I wouldn’t go back. 

Jyn’s heart almost broke with the love she felt for him right then.  _ This is a chance to do things right. To be a family _ . She kissed him again, and whispered, “Nothing would make me happier.”

#

All those people she had been over the years: the soldier, the thief, daughter of Galen Erso, traitor to the Rebellion. Saw’s ward, Saw’s soldier. The names she gave herself  _ Liana, Tanith, Kestrel _ , to hide from the Empire, and then to hide from Saw, and ultimately to hide from herself.  They were all gone now. Now, she was just Jyn, with a sprinkling of stardust in her soul. 

Cassian told her about the friend, Tivik, he’d had to kill on the Ring of Kafrane. And how he’d left behind men and women, good soldiers, on Eilorseint and Chemvau, and moved onto the next fight. They both had to forgive themselves, they had decided. They started by forgiving each other. 

Jyn knelt by the sky corn, examining the golden heads of grain. It would be ready to harvest soon. She watched Cassian bring the boat up onto the shore, and then disappear with an armful of fish into the smokehouse. 

When he emerged, she struggled to her feet. Walking was not so easy now. With her belly swollen her steps were slow and lumbering, but her heart was light. 

He ran the few steps towards her, and they walked to the homestead, hand in hand. 

#

Their daughter was born on a midsummer night, when the moon was full and the lake calm. Jyn looked into the little girl’s eyes, kissed her dusting of dark, fine hair and called her Lyra.  

Jyn could hardly believe how fiercely she loved her daughter: it hit her like a tidal wave a few days after the baby was born. The memory of pushing her into the world became hazy and all she could see was this tiny, fragile life gazing up into her eyes. In the hours spent nursing, the baby peered into her soul, pushing her to become the mother she’d wondered and worried and doubted she could be. 

She understood, for the first time, what it must have cost her mother to confront Krennic on Lah’mu. “My mother was brave enough to die for what she believed. But we have to be brave enough to live, little Lyra,” Jyn whispered to the baby in the dark. “I’ll tell you about your grandfather, how he was brave enough to live in the darkest of places to lay a trap for the Empire.” 

#

In the lake, Jyn arranged Lyra’s feet in position on her own bent thighs, so the little girl didn’t accidently kick at her swollen tummy.

“One, two, three,” Jyn said, launching Lyra towards Cassian. “Swim to Papa!” Lyra kicked and splashed as hard as her little legs could. 

Cassian took a step back. “That’s it, keep going,” he said, taking one more step back, then another. Lyra pulled her little arms in furious, splashing strokes, and then she was in his arms, her dark hair plastered across her face. 

“Again, again!” she squealed, turning about, getting her feet on his legs. “Higher, Papa!”

“Really? Higher? How high do you think you can go, little princess?” He took her by the waist, and put his knees under her, ready to boost her upwards.

“To the stars! I can go as high as the stars!” Lyra said.

#

One morning, Lyra looked at Jyn’s belly. “Are you ready to come out and play with me?” she solemnly enquired of the bump. “You’ve been in there long enough.”

“You are not wrong,” Jyn said, rubbing her sore back. “I think it will be soon.”

When their son was born, and Lyra reached out a tiny hand to touch his foot, Cassian turned away, but not quick enough to hide the tear in his eye. Then Lyra overcame her moment of shyness and began chattering. “Hello baby. We’ve got lots of things to do. I’m going to teach you to swim. And show you the best bits of the beach.”

#

It was the colours that intrigued Jyn the most, she decided early one morning as the sun came up over the mountains. Not the way time drifted here, nor the way the sun seemed to always be shining, or the way the rains came when the crops needed it and whatever seeds she planted seemed to burst up in odd mixture of grain and root vegetables and fruit. After the first three seasons, she stopped being amazed by that. It wasn’t even the way the ever evolving contents of the hold seemed to keep them going with the things they needed. After a while, they would just smile knowingly at one another, and Cassian would say, “I expect I’ll find something.” And he usually did. Jyn had stopped feeling curious about all that long ago. But the colours never ceased to amaze her. The green layers of jungle, laced with bright orange and shocking pink flowers that created the heady scent that she loved. The azure waters where neon fish darted in the shallows. And the sky, the sky could do the most wonderful things: the crisp, clear blue of the early morning, the reds and violets over the mountains in the evening, the inky blue and grey-black that heralded the night. And the stars here were the brightest she had ever known, twinkling against a majestic cloak of velvet. 

War was a distant memory.  Another life. 

Jyn dozed in the early evening sun, tired, but happily so.

Cassian joined her on the sand. “You okay?” he asked, rubbing Jyn’s tummy. “Lyra is asleep.”

Jyn smiled as he took her hand. “Things never stay still,” she said. “The universe expands, galaxies drift, and worlds spin. Do you think we can really be safe here?”

Cassian’s eyes were full of something new, something powerful and bigger than both of them. “The future is promised to no one,” he whispered, “but I will keep my family safe. I swear it.”

Jyn looked into his eyes, and she believed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the end of this little adventure. I could have carried on and given them more troubles to overcome, but a happy ending was calling me, and I figure they deserve it.   
> Of course, its always open to a sequel!
> 
> If you enjoyed my story, and want to support my writing, as well as get updates on my other work, including original sci fi:
> 
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> 
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**Author's Note:**

> If you like my story, leave me kudos.  
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